Twenty-two

EAGLE HUNG UP THE PHONE FROM HIS CONVERSATION with Vittorio. He felt relieved, relaxed, clean, as if after a sauna and a massage. In one day, perhaps two, he'd have the blank sheets with Barbara's signature, and life would be sweet again. So it had cost him three hundred thousand dollars plus the fees and expenses of Cupie, Vittorio and Russell Norris, say another fifty thousand. So what? It would be the cheapest divorce he could ever have obtained. Barbara had shot herself in the foot!

Apart from that, he had rid himself of one, possibly two, hit men and won Joe Big Bear's case in court. All in all, it made him feel like playing golf when he should be working. It was more fun, if he should be working. He called Wolf Willett.

"You up for some golf?"

"Sounds like more fun than working," Wolf said.

"Half an hour?"

"Done."

Half an hour later they were on the first tee, looking at a very straightforward par four, three hundred and seventy-five yards. Wolf hit a nice straight drive. So did Eagle, but ten yards shorter.

"I've never understood why you can't translate all that height of yours into length on the golf course," Wolf said smugly. "I mean, I'm nearly a foot shorter than you, and I just outdrove you."

"I want to encourage you," Eagle said. "Later, when there's more money involved, I'll get longer."

Vittorio drove away from the airport, then pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. "I guess we can wait them out," he said. "Check back every hour."

"We got lucky that time," Cupie said. "They were dumb enough to park that tank outside. Next time, they might be inside the terminal, and we only know what one of them looks like. Let's drive to Puerto Vallarta and try the airport there."

"Okay by me," Vittorio said. "What about you, Babs?"

"You guys are nuts," she said.

"What? We just earned our ten grand each, protecting you from the kidnappers; the rest is a free ride for you."

"Let's get going," she said. At least, she had stopped popping up out of the backseat every ten minutes.

"Just relax, baby," Cupie said, "and we'll get you home. Wherever that is."

"Shut up and drive," she said.

Vittorio put the car in gear and headed for Puerto Vallarta.

They left the course after nine holes and went to the clubhouse for some lunch. Eagle told Wolf about his feelings of relief and safety.

"Relieved and safe is a good way to be," Wolf agreed. "Of course, there's another woman out there somewhere, just waiting to do it to you all over again."

"You mean you think they're all thieves and murderers?"

"No, just our first wives. Maybe you'll get lucky next time, the way I did."

"You did get lucky, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and now when I pay my film editor, the money stays in the family. And not only that, when she's not working with me, she goes out and earns a very nice buck working for other filmmakers."

"Now that is devoutly to be wished," Eagle said, wonder in his voice. "To think that I was happy this morning, thinking all my wife had cost me was three hundred and fifty grand, and your wife is out there, bringing home the bacon."

"The eggs, too, in a good year."

"I'm never, ever, ever going to get married again," Eagle said. "I should never have done it in the first place."

"That's not good thinking," Wolf said. "Goes against the natural order of things."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that man is not meant to be alone; he craves companionship."

"And sex."

"That, too."

"I got news for you, pal: from now on, dinner and a roll in the hay is enough companionship and sex for me. Maybe a dirty weekend now and then."

"Yeah, but you're not getting that warm, family feeling around the holidays."

"I'll sleep through the holidays."

"Yes, and alone."

"I HAVE TO PEE," Barbara said.

"I'll let you know when we're at the next gas station," Vittorio replied.

"I have to pee right now," she said. "The road is bumpy."

"Then you're going to have to make do with a cactus for a bathroom."

"Let me worry about that."

Vittorio pulled over. "There's a nice one right over there," he said. "Some bushes, too."

Barbara got out of the car and picked her way across twenty yards of desert in her high heels to a clump of flora.

"Uh-oh," Vittorio said. He was looking in the rearview mirror.

Cupie swiveled his head around and looked back down the long, straight highway. "It's a black dot," he said.

"Right."

"Gimme those binoculars of yours." Cupie focused on the black dot. "Uh-oh," he said. He rolled down the window, letting in a gust of hot, dry air. "Barbara!"

"Just a minute," she yelled.

"Stay where you are," Cupie called. "Car coming."

"Big deal!"

"I hope not, but it could be." Cupie watched through the glasses as the black dot got bigger. "Take off your hat," Cupie said.

"What?"

"Vittorio, they may not remember you, but they'll remember that fucking hat."

Vittorio took off his campaign hat and dropped it on the floor. "You know what I wish?" he said.

"What?"

"I wish I had a heavy machine gun."

Cupie was still glued to the binoculars. "It's a black SUV," he said. "I wish I had a hand grenade."

Twenty-three

CUPIE AND VlTTORIO WERE HOLDING UP A MAP, CONCEALing their handguns beneath it, when the black Suburban pulled alongside them and stopped. A window slid down, and two men grinned at them from the front seat. They couldn't see who was in the backseat.

"Buenos dias, senores," the man in the passenger seat said. He was middle-aged, mustachioed, bad teeth.

"Hiya," Cupie yelled, smiling, too. "You speaka the English?"

"Of course, senor," the man replied. "Do you need help?"

"We're just looking for the best way to Juarez."

"You go straight ahead, all the way to Tijuana, then turn right on highway number two, and that takes you all the way to Juarez."

Cupie looked at the map, puzzled. "Wouldn't it be shorter to go more cross-country?"

"Yes, senor, but the roads are not so very good, and, of course, there are the banditos."

"Oh, I see. Well, it sounds more exciting that way. Thanks very much."

The rear window of the Suburban slid down a couple of inches and a pair of eyes appeared, looking into the rear seat of the Toyota, then it slid up again.

"Adios, senores," the front passenger said. "Vaya con Dios!" The Suburban roared away.

"Speaking of banditos," Vittorio said, "that guy looked just like the bandit in Treasure of the Sierra Madre. The 'We ain't got no steenk-ing badges' guy."

"Yeah, and his intentions are pretty much the same." Cupie looked over to see Barbara coming. "Get back in the bushes!" he yelled, and she turned around and disappeared again. He turned back to Vittorio. "You think they bought it?"

"Well, they didn't see the lady, did they?"

"I don't think they bought it." Cupie yelled out the window. "All right, they're gone; get back in the car."

Barbara made her way back to the Toyota and got in. "Was it them?"

"You bet your sweet ass it was," Vittorio said.

"Where did they go?"

"Straight ahead."

"Then let's turn around and go back to the Acapulco airport."

Vittorio shook his head. "The driver of the Suburban talked to the cops there; they'll be looking for you."

"He's right," Cupie agreed, "and they're probably on the phone right now, giving them a description of us and our car."

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Let's make a pass at the Puerto Vallarta airport," Cupie said, "and if it's staked out, we'll just go straight on to Tijuana and walk across the border. We'll get you a cab to the San Diego airport, and you're free as a bird."